Last Words
by zipadeea
Summary: James Potter isn't sure how he feels about them. Companion piece to 'Fearless', but can be read alone.


Remus always had an odd fascination with people's last words. "It's the last mark you'll leave on the world," he would always comment when the topic came up. "Don't you want it to memorable?"

Sirius always disagreed. He didn't believe last words mattered, especially if there was no one important to hear. "Better to go out in a blaze of glory than to have words worth repeating," would be his response.

Peter, as always, agreed with Sirius.

James wasn't entirely sure how he felt about the topic. He'd avoid the question, and tell his friends that when they all died a hundred years from now at the exact same moment, none of it would matter anyway. The Marauders would laugh, and the subject would be avoided once again. James had seen friends die with their backs turned in battle, and had heard his parents say "I love you," one last time before succumbing to illness. Neither seemed preferable to him. Dead was dead. At least it was before James married Lily.

"Do you believe in Heaven?" She had asked one night. They'd both been sitting on the sofa in front of the fire, Lily with her head on his shoulder while he softly felt for the baby's kicks. "I just, I don't know anymore. I want to. I want to believe that our parents and friends are in this wonderful paradise, that God is watching over us, but sometimes it seems so hard with the world the way it is." She sighed softly. "My parents took us to mass every weekend. They believed so easily. I wish I could. I know Petunia stopped going to church after the funeral. Vernon was never very religious anyway…" She trailed off, looking to her husband for an answer.

"I believe that good things should happen to good people, and that the universe is a constant balancing act. I don't think that ends after you die." James finally replied. "You are the best person I have ever met, so heaven has to be real, even if it was made specially just for you." He finished with a soft smile. Lily's responding kiss made him wonder if heaven could exist on earth after all.

Soon after, Harry was born, and for a time, everybody ignored the pressing matter of death in the midst of war. With Harry around, it was hard to think of anything besides the marvel that is life. Watching the birth and ensuing life of his son, watching the miracle created from his and his wife's love, made all other matters pale in comparison. Harry brought hope and goodness and laughter in a bleak time; he made it very hard to think that God didn't exist.

Then Marlene died, and Gideon and Fabian, and a prophecy was foretold, and the dream world that Harry's birth had created seemed to crumble before them. War had reached a crescendo, and none of them were quite sure it could end in their favor.

A few weeks after going into hiding, James asked Lily what she thought about the importance of last words. She was rocking Harry to sleep, while James watched from the doorway.

"Your last words can only be meaningful if you know you're dying." She said in a whisper, not wanting to wake Harry. "My parents didn't know a car would hit them. Their last conversation was probably about getting more milk at the market, for all I know. It would be a gift to have good and meaningful last words, but I don't know if I'm brave enough to want that." She paused to place a kiss on Harry's forehead before laying him in the crib. "I'm still angry that my parents died, but if they had to go, that's the way I'd choose for them. It was quick; no time for fear or pain. And they were together.

"If I were to die tomorrow, I'd want my last words to be to you and Harry. I'd tell you that you're wonderful and I love you both more than life itself."

"You tell us that every day." James said softly, pulling his wife into a hug.

"Exactly."

Two weeks later was Halloween. Lily had just grabbed Harry to go upstairs for his bath. Her wand was in the kitchen; she'd used it to make tea and left it on the counter. James went to follow, because he was bored, and watching Harry splash around in the bath was entertaining. He left his wand on the sofa; Harry had drenched it during bath time the night before, and James didn't want to repeat the experience. It was nearly the last, and worst, decision he would ever make.

But it was his last decision that counted. And as the green light hurtled toward him, James couldn't bring himself to regret his last words. "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" They'd spilled from his mouth without thought as he pushed his wife and son away from him, up the stairs.

James would never see his son grow up. He wouldn't teach Harry how to play Quidditch, how to talk to girls, or how to shave. He would never kiss his wife again, he wouldn't get the chance to give Harry siblings.

But James Potter gave his family a moment, and maybe that would be enough. Maybe his wife and child would live to see another day. And Lily, and possibly even Harry, would remember his last words. They would remember what he did, and know that he loved them more than life itself.

Perhaps actions speak louder than words. But sometimes the last words you give can echo for lifetimes. In that moment, James didn't care. Lily was screaming, Voldemort was attacking, and James was watching as the inevitable curse advanced. And as the green light approached, James thought inexplicably of his favorite pair of eyes, and the way they squinted when his wife and son smiled—

And everything was gone.


End file.
